


A Simple Push

by abbene



Series: Dream SMP Oneshots [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Community House go boom, Gen, Mentioned Floris | Fundy, Mentioned Niki | Nihachu, Mentioned Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Toby Smith | Tubbo, Mentioned TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Post-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo is not chilling in Cedar Rapids, Ranboo-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Traitor Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), ranboo do be commiting war crimes and not remembering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:47:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28706169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbene/pseuds/abbene
Summary: Press it. Press the button.His finger hovers the wooden surface, tracing its square figure on the background of grey stone. A simple push is all it would take to inflict a profound amount of pain on so many people. The emotional wound it would cause would be incredibly pleasing to watch bleed.Press it, Ranboo.A moment of clarity. “What?” He murmurs aloud, jerking his hand back in horror. “Wh… What is this? What am I doing?”---When Dream told Ranboo that he had blown up the community house, it wasn't a lie. He doesn't always lie.
Series: Dream SMP Oneshots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2181081
Comments: 4
Kudos: 54





	A Simple Push

**Author's Note:**

> just a disclaimer, ranboo has stated that his character has no relation to DID or other disorders like it. the contents of this writing are not intended to promote the idea of that either. ranboo is one person, despite the separate dialogues and references to himself in the third person, as you'll soon see.

A determined step through tall grass. The sight of the moon’s reflection in the murky water. A faint mist floating across the land. The server contains only two of its members tonight—a conflicted traitor and successful puppet master.

Both are struggling with control.

 _Some there._ He places it on the windowsill. _Another there._ He slips it beneath the stairs. _Can’t miss these._ He settles them on all four corners. There’s a deep-seated feeling of knowing within him, resonating in the deepest, darkest part of his being. Despite all the layers between him and what he knows to be true, Ranboo can see it all so clearly—though, he doesn’t want to.

 _Trail it out. Yes, just like that._ The pouch of glimmering red powder sits in his right hand, the other reaching in every so often to grab some and carefully continue the line already made. He can feel every movement, every shake of his wrist, every touch of his feet to the floor, and yet he still refuses to admit it. He’s not in control but in the same way, he is.

His mind is a sanctuary. He uses it to hide from the painful reality of here, a place to connect his scattered thoughts and retreat into security. But also, it’s a lie. A sweet lie, a sugar-coated truth, a cradle of comfort, whether he wants to realize that or not. He knows what he wants to, not what he should—and that is his greatest downfall. He goes on to convince himself that he can’t and doesn’t want to be fixed, all because he _knows_ the facts would shatter him to his roots.

It’s scribbled throughout his memory book, an emphasis of it on every single page: Don’t choose sides, sides are bad. Every note that’s down is accompanied by a reminder of what choosing sides does, how it turns people against each other and creates senseless conflict. War, bloodshed, memories… Memories he doesn’t want to remember.

But has he, Ranboo, ever considered the sides of his own? The sides of a much lesser-known war, ones that aren’t actually sides at all, but parts of himself that reveal the good and evil, the hero and the villain of the story—except the roles are getting increasingly difficult to distinguish? Seemingly not.

But soon.

 _Press it._ _Press the button._ His finger hovers the wooden surface, tracing its square figure on the background of grey stone. A simple push is all it would take to inflict a profound amount of pain on so many people. The emotional wound it would cause would be incredibly pleasing to watch bleed.

_Press it, Ranboo._

A moment of clarity. “What?” He murmurs aloud, jerking his hand back in horror. “Wh… What is this? What am I doing?”

_You know exactly what you’re doing. You know what you want to do. It’s a simple push!_

“No, why—why would I want to do this? No, no no no—” He’s silenced by shock. A sudden hand on his shoulder sends shivers down his spine. This all too much, he tells himself, too much to see, too much to hear…

Too much to remember.

“It’s a simple push, Ranboo.” Dream’s voice is soft, almost as if it could be a lullaby to sleep. The way he says his name reminds him of the voice he uses to calm himself down—those lonely nights in the panic room when all he can think about is how many people he’s hurt and betrayed. It almost makes him want to do it.

He looks over, meeting eyes with the foreboding mask. That constant smile is excruciating to see, though he doesn’t quite know why… All he knows is that he wants to hate Dream. He wants to hate that stupid smile, knowing how much pain it’s caused to the people he cares about—Tommy, Tubbo, Fundy, Niki, Philza, Technoblade… However, he can’t. And he doesn’t know why.

“Dream, why would… Why would I do that? Why do _you_ want that?” He’s confused. So utterly and pathetically confused.

“Well, not everything can stay. And nothing is permanent, no matter how long you try to preserve it.” His hand outstretches to gesture to the building. “This has been here from the beginning, when it was just a few people on the server. But now is when it goes, just like everything does within time.”

“It doesn’t have to go. Not yet.”

“It does, Ranboo. Press the button.” This time, urgency slips between each of his words. Hints of annoyance and frustration give him a bit of a faster heartbeat. He doesn’t want to mess with Dream but he knows if he does what he wants him to, the consequences will be much, much worse.

“No.”

He laughs. “No?” Dream tilts his head away, taking one last glance at the building before turning back to Ranboo.

 _Then I’ll just have to force you to._ Said Dream, except there was no external voice… No echo off of the high hills nearby, not a slight movement of his head—it was in his mind. It was in Ranboo’s mind.

His eyes widen in realization—but just as quickly as it comes, he’s pushed back into the unforgiving paradise he constantly delves in. Once again, he’s forced into a state of blissful ignorance, hidden from the dangers that lurk outside.

Or perhaps they’re closer than he wants to see.

“Go on.” Dream encourages him. A small smirk appears on his own lips.

He turns his head, moving closer to the button whilst imagining the chaos that is to ensue after this decision—he’s craving that. He’s been waiting for this, waiting for an opportunity to seize control, to slowly have his influence weave through the minds of every person on this server. They were doomed from the beginning!

“Nothing lasts forever.” The few words slip past his lips, synching with a perilous click from behind the button. He’s done it. A simple push was all it took.

The trail of red reminds him of a time not so long ago but long enough to be nostalgic of. Each piece stretches the path of light further, closing the gap between it and its destination… And as it halts at its final stop, a faint sizzle can be heard, followed by a loud bang, and even more sizzles.

The Community House is no more.

Within seconds, what was the start of this server, the collective home and gathering place for many, is nothing more than a crater in a lake. Water is rushing in to fill the remains of the basement, extinguishing stray flames below the water level. Above it all, smoke billows through the sky from the blaze that eats away at the stairs, the wooden outline, the leaves on the bushes…

He couldn’t be happier about it.

There’s a brief silence that fills the air. A mixture of dread and excitement swirls within his core. The knowledge of what’s to come stays hidden but what’s happened now has impacted him incredibly far… And will continue to for a long while.

“He won’t remember this.” He announces over the aggressive roar of fire.

“No. But he, you, still did it.” Dream replies. When he looks over, the warm colors dance across the white surface of the mask… Tauntingly, almost.

He looks back, feeling the disagreement and panic beginning to surface. It will only cause unnecessary reflection later, these emotions, and he doesn’t want that. Emotions can be good when used for his own benefit but not when they hinder his progress. It’s best if he doesn’t remember this.

He answers Dream shortly after.

“I know. And it feels amazing."


End file.
